


The Princess and the Prisoner

by Astronut



Series: Han/Leia Challenge Fics [3]
Category: Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: X-Wing Series - Aaron Allston & Michael Stackpole
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Post Courtship of Princess Leia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-11-02 01:07:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20569943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Astronut/pseuds/Astronut
Summary: Han is kidnapped.  Han/Leia fluff





	The Princess and the Prisoner

**Author's Note:**

> Written in 2007 for the Jedi Council Forums Han/Leia Challenge
> 
> Takes place after the Courtship of Princess Leia
> 
> Please do not repost without permission.

The Princess and the Prisoner

Two figures lurked in a small corridor that branched off the main hanger bay. The glowpanels overhead had gasped their last spark hours ago, leaving the two men submersed in the deep shadow. The man nearest the hanger shifted uneasily, his face looking even paler in the poor lighting. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this.” 

“Oh, quit worrying for once in your life,” his companion hissed. “It’s not like you’re going to get shot or anything.” 

“Says who? Think about it, why are we doing this?” 

“Because we were told to. And we don’t exactly have a choice.” 

“Right, so we’re committing a crime because someone with a lot of power told us to do it.” 

“And how does that differ from what we do everyday? I mean, killing people is a crime, in case you haven’t noticed. That doesn’t stop us most of the time.” 

“You know what I mean,” the long faced man scowled at his partner. “This is different. This is…this is, I don’t know, worse.” 

The other man grinned, amused with the other man’s logic. “And this is worse, how?” 

“We’re two guys doing the illegal bidding of our powerful boss. That makes us _minions_!” 

The man’s grin broadened. “Minions. I kind of like the sound of that.” 

At that moment, the man’s comlink beeped quietly. Turning it on, the two men could hear a quiet voice. “Two here. Target is moving. ETA one minute.” 

“One is in position.”

The grinning man pushed the switch that would allow him to talk. “Minions Three and Four are ready to go.” A hiss of static came over the comlink right before the man re-pocketed it, but whether it was simply static or an expression of anger by One or Two, he couldn’t be sure. 

The man’s worried companion continued to glare at him. “Minions are the ones who get shot! They’re the ones that are dispatched in droves by the lightsaber wielding hero!” 

His companion hurriedly shushed him. “Quiet! We’ll be fine, as long as you keep your voice down. It’s not like we’re hunting a Hero of the New Republic or anything, right? He’s only a smuggler.” 

“We’re doomed!” 

***

“Just a little bit further…” the brown haired man muttered. His fancy white shirt was already soaked to the elbows in lubricant, but the mess was going to get a lot worse if he didn’t get these lines hooked up. “Why is it the last line is always too short? Chewie! Get your furry backside down here and give me a hand!”

A disgruntled roar met Han’s ears, indicating the Wookiee wasn’t in the mood for Han’s playful insults. 

“Alright, fine, be that way. I’ll do it myself!” He gave the line a firm jerk and narrowly managed to trap the end in its clip. But the jerk had torn a hole in the other end. “Ahh, shavit!” 

Lubricant cascaded down in a slick rain. 

Cursing under his breath, Han slapped a piece of grey space tape over the hole and strode out of the _Falcon_, his highly shined boots clanking down the ramp. “Chewie, do we have anymore of that cleaner stuff? You know, the stuff for the lubricant slicks?” 

“Wwrolmph.”

“Oh come on, you know I didn’t mean that remark about you using it for shampoo. How was I supposed to know that Wookiees need protective oils?” 

“Wwrrraahhh?” The Wookiee held up the tangle of wires and melted insulation that he had just disconnected from the exterior of the _Falcon_. Shaking it violently, he bared his teeth at Han. 

“I’ll go then!” Han shouted over his shoulder as stormed out of the hanger. “You just stay here and get my baby back into shape. And don’t cross those wires! I actually want the old girl’s shields to work!” 

Warlord Zsinj’s Super Star Destroyer had done its best to pound the _Millennium Falcon_ into space dust. The attentions of the Nightsisters hadn’t helped the old girl any, and Luke’s insane lifesaving maneuvers had shaken vital parts loose. Overall, the Falcon was a mess and Han wouldn’t be happy until she was back to her usual, if not pristine, at least workable, condition. 

Distracted by his thoughts, Han didn’t notice the two men approaching him from behind. His first indication of their presence was when his thoughts blacked out and there was only darkness. 

***

“One, this is Minion Three. Target acquired.” 

Cubber heard the Commander’s comlink as the small group of techs sat crouched in one of the pilot ready rooms. The Commander picked up his comlink. “I read you. One Team is inbound.” 

The dark haired officer jerked his head toward Cubber and then indicated the door. With surprising silence, Cubber crept into the hanger. His techs followed in equal silence, fear playing across their faces. Cubber was sure he had managed to keep his face straight, but he knew the growing sweat stains under his arms had to be a dead giveaway. They were all scared. No one was allowed to touch the _Millennium Falcon_. No one except for Solo and the Wookiee. 

However, the Commander, a man with ice water in his veins, feared nothing. His boots echoed in the quiet hanger, drawing the attention of precisely the person the techs were trying so hard not to disturb. 

“Rrroowwww?” a guttural roar issued from the Wookiee perched on top of the _Falcon_. 

Cubber swallowed hard. 

The Commander just waved. “Hey Chewie, why don’t you take a break?”

The Wookiee roared again but dark haired officer just shook is head. “Sorry , Chewie, I don’t understand. But look, I’ve got a whole contingent of the New Republic’s best techs here. They can get the _Falcon_ space ready in a quarter of the time you and Han could. I’ve done work on the _Pulsar_ _Skate_ in the past and I know the _Falcon_, so I can stay and make sure they put everything back the way Han likes it. Go ahead and get some sleep. You can come back and yell at us in the morning.” 

Chewie shrugged and then whuffed in acquiescence. The techs watched him go with a bit of awe. Cubber felt as if a weight had fallen off his shoulders. His task had just become a whole lot less impossible. “Thanks, sir. We’ll take it from here.” 

The Commander shook his head and shot Cubber a look. “I meant what I said. After all, I have to make sure you guys don’t fiddle with the settings on the extruder valves.” 

Memories of a certain X-Wing inspection drifted to the surface of Cubber’s thoughts and a bit fear began to bloom again in all of its smelly glory. “Sir?” 

“I’ll take Zraii and start on the _Falcon’s_ hyperdrive since it should be pretty similar to the _Skate’s_.” The man snorted. “Except I’m sure they’ll be in an even bigger mess. Why don’t you get a start on the shields? Wire them for maximum efficiency, not safety. Oh, and Cubber?” 

“Yes, sir?” 

The Commander smiled like a feral predator. “Make sure your techs do a good job. After all, I would hate to have to tell Han whom he has to thank for the state of his baby.” 

***

An elegant woman with pure white hair shut down her communications station and turned to the dark haired woman seated on the bed. “The target has been acquired and dealt with. The support crew is in position and estimate another two hours.” 

The woman on the bed set down her hairbrush and began gathering her long hair. Delicate hands danced back and forth as she weaved the plaits. “Are they sure that will be enough time? I want quality.” 

“They’re our best. Cosmetically, it will look the same as it does currently. Mechanically, however…”

“Good.” Her dark hair in place, she began pulling on her garments. “File the report. Makes sure you keep the language elevated and long-winded, I should hate for them to comprehend my intentions too soon.” 

“Very well. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

With hard brown eyes, the woman studied her reflection in the mirror. “Bring me my blaster. The big one.” 

***

Han blinked painfully as bright light flooded his eyes. “What the…?” He trailed off as he realized that both his hands and his feet had been tightly bound to his chair. The bright floodlight prevented him from seeing anything else in the darkened room. 

“You are awake,” a mechanical voice stated. Han could vaguely make out a heavily robed shape moving. 

“And here I was hoping I was still dreaming,” Han replied. “But you’re not nearly pretty enough for this to be a dream.”

“I suggest keeping your comments to yourself, General Solo.” There was another shift in light, possibly a second figure. “If you behave, you will be unharmed.” 

“Well, you see, it’s like this fellows,” Han drawled, allowing himself to slouch casually as much as the restraints allowed. “I’m not exactly a rules following type of guy. So, why don’t you release me and save a little wear and tear on your furniture? And your bodies.” 

“I think not, General.” 

A soft pile of cloth landed on Han’s lap, startling him. 

“In a few minutes, we will leave this room. Before I depart, I will release you. Once we have gone, you will use the refresher in the next room and change into those clothes. By the time you have finished, a meal will be waiting for you. After you have eaten, all of us will go for a walk.” 

“No thanks, I have a strict policy about accepting hospitality from Ubese bounty hunters.” Han had finally placed the strange pitches of the mechanical voices and found himself really wishing for his blaster back. 

“You will do as we say,” one of the voices said. Now an all too familiar beeping could be heard, insistently marking out the time. 

“How original, a thermal detonator.” Han snorted. “You know those things have a nasty habit of taking out the guy that triggered it.” 

“We know.” 

The flatness of the mechanical tone brokered no argument. Han allowed a few minutes of beep filled silence to pass before he sighed. “Fine, fine. I guess getting this lubricant off me won’t kill me. Go on, get out of here.” 

The beeping silenced and Han heard rustling as the figures presumably left the room. Just as a hiss of a door met his ears, his restraints released and dropped off. Han got to his feet and inspected the room. Other than the door, the light, and the chair the room was bare. There were no signs of easy exits or even of where he was. Picking up the clothes, Han walked to the ‘fresher. He could think of an escape plan while he cleaned up. 

***

“Are you sure this is going to work?” the long faced man asked his companions. He had already pried off the environment suit’s bulky helmet. His companions did likewise. 

“Yes, Three, it’ll work.” The man ran his hands through hair, trying to free the plastered down, sweaty locks. 

“Unless he decides not to eat the food,” the third man added merrily. 

The blonde man glared icily at his grinning associate, silencing him. 

After a while, the sounds of the refresher died away. The mournful man glanced at his chrono. They waited for a few more minutes before finally nodding to each other. Gripping their blasters tightly, they entered the small room. 

Solo lay sprawled out on the middle of the floor, dressed in the clothing they had brought him. His chest rose and fell and he occasionally emitted a soft snore. 

“Amazing, it actually worked.” The man’s usual devious grin had a heavy overlay of astonishment. “What are we waiting for? Grab a convenient limb and get this over with.” 

“Uh, guys,” the mournful, sandy haired man said in panic. “He didn’t eat any of his food! He must be faking it!” 

The merry man jumped back and swung his blaster inline. But Solo didn’t move, he simply continued to snore. 

“It’s alright, he won’t bite,” the blonde remarked dryly. Reaching into the collar of Solo’s shirt, he pulled out a tiny, near invisible pin and showed it to his companions. “I knew he wouldn’t trust the food, so I put this in his clothes. It should give us an hour, tops.” 

The sandy haired man whistled. “Nice. Good thinking.” 

“That’s why I outrank you two.” 

The grin on the merry man widened. “No, that’s why you date that lovely woman of yours. She’s got the brains. She’s got the toys, too. Tell me, are those stun cuffs hers, too? They look rather worn.” Dark eyebrows wiggled diabolically. 

“Quiet you. I’m not even going to dignify that with an answer. Four, you take the arms, Three, you get his feet.” 

“What are you doing?” 

“Me, I’ll get the door.” 

***

Once again, Han woke up with the painfully bright light in his eyes and his hands and feet bound. This time, the hard chair was gone and in its stead was a soft jumpseat, similar to those he had in the cabins of the _Falcon_. 

“You’re awake,” said a strangely modulated mechanical voice. 

“Do we really have to do this again?” Han spat. “Listen, I what to know what in Corellia’s Seven Hells is going on here. And if you think, even think, you’re going to drug me again, well you’ve got another thing coming.”

“I am not going to drug you.” 

“That’s nice to know. So what does that leave us? Shoot me, space me, maim me… Surely you could find something creative.” 

“Indeed,” the voice drawled. The figure approached Han, just close enough for Han to see shapely legs with a heavy blaster hung low on feminine hips. 

Han blinked in surprise. “Now listen here, lady. I’m a married man. That doesn’t mean I’ve gone soft hearted or anything, I’ll still shoot you as soon as I get my hands on my blaster, but I’m sure my wife won’t like you talking like that. And she’ll do a whole lot worse than just shoot you, trust me.” 

“You’re married? When?” 

“Last week. Why, did you forget to send a gift? I could use a new blaster. In fact, why don’t you give me yours?” 

“Then why are you here?” 

“What? That’s what you’re supposed to tell me!” Han’s temples throbbed and he wished his hands were free to rub his aching head. He shifted in his chair, only to have a coil jab him uncomfortably. It was an oddly familiar sensation. “Who are you?” 

“Someone who loves you very much.” 

“Leia.” 

The light turned off. Batting away the bright circles that still spotted his vision, Han could clearly see his wife. Her eyes were dark with emotion and her lips were marked from the voicesynth she had been using. But those weren’t her most noticeable changes. Instead of her usual stylish dresses or even her old Rebel fatigues, she wore what Han could only call ‘smuggler’s garb’. 

“Leia, what’s going on? Where am I?” 

Shifting her blaster out of the way, Leia perched on the edge of the counter. “Don’t recognize your own ship?” 

“Ah, I thought this chair was familiar. I keep forgetting to get this thing fixed.” 

“You seem to be forgetting a lot of things lately. I suppose I should expect that, marrying an old man and all.” 

“Who you calling old?” Han grinned. “How about helping an old man out of his cuffs?” 

A sinister smile played across Leia’s lips. “I don’t think so.” At Han’s puzzled, puppy nek look, Leia elaborated. “Not yet. We’ve got a few minutes before we’re beyond the half way point to our destination. I don’t want you getting any ideas about turning this ship around.” 

“Where are we going? Wait,” Han’s eyes widened, “we’re on the Falcon? Her drives are a misfiring mess! We could be killed!” 

“They’ve been repaired.”

“But Chewie and I have weeks’ worth of repairs left! There’s no way he could have finished!” 

“Which is why I gave him the day off,” Leia said patiently. “Your ship is fine, all put together just the way you like it. Your marriage, however, could use some work.” 

The glare Leia sent Han made him cringe. “I know I’ve been spending a lot of time with the _Falcon_, but I had to make sure she’s ready to go, just in case the Imps show up or something.” 

“On Coruscant? Han, we just got married! We’re supposed to be on our honeymoon! Not repairing your stupid ship,” Leia pleaded. She gestured with her hand as she spoke, a sign that her usual restraint was slipping. 

Han felt as if he had just been smacked in the face. “Oh, Leia, I’m sorry. I thought after Dathomir you wanted to stay home.” 

“Yes, but with you!” 

“Leia, I’m sorry, I didn’t think. You should have told me.” 

“Well, I am. And we’re bound for a nice little isolated asteroid resort, in case you’re curious.” 

A lopsided grin tugged at Han’s lips. “Sounds good to me.” 

Leia sighed. “If I’d have known that, I wouldn’t have gone to all this trouble.” 

Han snorted. “I could have done without the drugs. And being stunned. And tied up by Ubese bounty hunters. They weren’t Ubese, were they?” 

“No,” Leia laughed. “Apparently Rogue Squadron’s experience with ground ops can occasionally come in handy.” 

“Great,” Han growled. “I’ll have to remember to thank them when we get back. And who touched my girl?” 

“Han…”

“Leia, I need to know who to pound if they’ve put a governor on my hyperdrive. And if they touched my control panel. And if they so much sneezed on her shields.” His fingers were itching for his blaster again. He forced them to relax by drinking in his wife’s new look. 

“Some of the Rogue’s techs. Wedge rode heard on them to make sure they put every dent back in its right place,” Leia said soothingly, as if to a small child. 

“Fine…fine, just fine,” Han muttered, trying to convince himself. Eventually, he surrendered and sighed. “So, Princess, how about you rescue this old smuggler and we’ll see about getting to that resort a little faster?” 

“I don’t think so. The cuffs stay until we get there.” 

“Leia…” 

“This time, you’re my prisoner and I intend to make the most of it.” 

She muffled his reply with a long, tender kiss.


End file.
